It's Not Over Till It's Over
by AutumnDragons
Summary: Alt.Ending to 'The High Lord'. An Ichani escapes death during the battle for Kyralia and plots his revenge on the Guild. Sonea is cursed in the fight and struggles with keeping her failing health from Akkarin while he helps put Kyralia to rights.
1. The Power Of Love

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own the characters or places written and recognized in this, they belong to Trudi Canavan. I am not making a profit from this. _

_(If I _had _owned it, Akkarin would have lived!)_

**_A/N_** **Hello! This is my first fic (ARGH!). I hope it's okay! Some of the characters may be a bit OOC, I'm very sorry about that! For one, I think I may have made Balkan a wee bit too forgiving :/ eek! This fic may also turn into a multi-chap one, although I already have slight writer's block. It does not bode well! But I'll try my hardest to sort it out :) **

**ALSO** **So that a part of this story makes sense: When crossing the border back into Kyralia, Sonea and Akkarin DO NOT meet Dorrien, hence he does not know what is going on between them, therefore the reason he is angry when he realises, as you will find out if you read on...**

**Anyway, please don't hesitate to R&R, constructive critisicsm is very welcome. Ciao!**

_Chapter One : The Power Of Love_

Sonea dropped to Akkarin's still form, her black robes billowed out behind her on bloodstained ground.

_Whose blood?_

Her whole body shook as she grasped the handle of the Ichani's blade, and pulled it out of Akkarin's chest. She was still shaking when she pressed her hands over the wound, concentrating hard on reconnecting the cruelly torn tissues in his body.

Her lips trembled as she reached out a hand and turned his head towards her. Sobs racketed through her as she saw his once beautiful dark eyes stare out as though at something behind her.

"No, Akkarin…" her whispers grew louder, "Akkarin! Please don't! Please don't leave me! We've done so much…"

Her cry echoed around the empty space of the Guild grounds. She could feel herself breaking down, her heart clenching too painfully in her chest at the sight of the once strong and imposing man looking so vulnerable on the ground.

_What did I do? WHAT IS THIS PUNISHMENT FOR? _She screamed in her head.

He couldn't be dead. Tears were streaming down her face, dripping onto black robes. She was so close to him, she could feel his still warm body under her. She lifted her head and pressed her lips against his, her hands gripping his robes tighter and tighter. _You can't be gone! _She reached up to either side of his head, pressing her cold palms against his smooth black hair and let her mind expand out, trying in vain to find Akkarin's. _Come back to me Akkarin… come back… _Fresh tears ran down her face as no-one replied to her desperate plea.

Memories of herself and Akkarin forced themselves on her, almost like they were mocking. One stood out from them all; the first time he admitted his feelings for her, how his eyes looked resigned to the fact he could no longer deny himself, and he took her in his arms for an embrace that she lost track of time in, how his kiss lit up a fire in her body that made her heart stutter and then pulse stronger for him than ever before.

_I couldn't stop myself reaching up, running a hand through her soft hair, pulling out the debris and making her perfect again. I can't describe the pride I felt for her that night…_

Sonea jolted alert, her eyes snapping open. That memory was from the night she had first killed the Ichani woman.

_But… that memory was not mine. Akkarin pulled the dirt out of my hair._

Realisation hit her and her already quickened breathing increased two-fold.

_Or behind the waterfall, her body so close to mine, her hair slick against her head and trailing down to her shoulders, moist, dark eyelashes framing beautiful dark eyes, and then it happened, my attempts at restraint failed and now our bodies were together, skin against skin, the air electrifying and her lips leaving burning sensations on mine…_

Sonea slowly moved her gaze down to his face again, and quietly whispered "Oh…".

His eyes were looking straight back at her, faintly glistening, and his lips were curled in a familiar half-smile. She could feel his chest once again rising and falling beneath her steadily.

"Akkarin - " Her voice caught and she tried to hold back tears, but her relief was so powerful she could do nothing but let them flow. Akkarin blinked and pulled himself up into a sitting position, with Sonea in his lap. She could see tears threatening to spill from his eyes as well. He had a strange expression on his face, a mix of fear and joy, but she guessed it was the same way she looked now; she was scared he would suddenly slip away again.

"Akk -" This time she was stopped as he placed a finger over her lips, quieting her.

His right hand moved up her back and entwined itself in her hair, the other left her mouth and he wrapped it around her waist. Slowly he brought her face closer to his. Their eyes met. Sonea felt her face and neck warm under the intensity of his gaze, but she returned the look and faintly smiled as she heard a catch in his breathing. His gaze shifted from her eyes towards her mouth. He paused and then leaned forward. Finally, their lips met. His lips were so soft against hers and she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. He pressed against her harder in response. In that moment Sonea forgot all her worries and she lost herself to the emotions he brought out in her. Her teary eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, and all too soon he let out a soft sigh, and gently pulled away to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Hush, Sonea. I'm here… I promise I won't leave you again." His deep voice resonated in his chest.

Somehow he had known what was frightening her, and that promise eased her mind. _Thank you,_ she thought. She didn't know if she said it out loud, but now a sudden rush of weariness washed over her, and she collapsed in Akkarin's arms, unconscious.

~.~.~

Akkarin glanced down when he heard a soft murmur and was startled to see her eyes flicker in and out of focus and then close.

"Sonea?"

He expanded his own senses to search for her mind. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding when he found it, even though he could only sense a vague feeling of happiness and contentment radiating from her, no surface thoughts. He then searched for her power and grimaced. It was almost fatally low, she was near exhaustion. His arms tightened themselves round her body, as though they alone could protect her, when he realised he had no power to spare to help revive her.

_Well of course I don't have any, _he smiled as he chided himself, _I already gave it to her._

After gazing at her once more, Akkarin looked around himself at the result of the battle. The three Ichani bodies still lay on the ground not 20 feet away, their limbs sprawled out where they fell. _Too close to feel comfortable,_ Akkarin thought. The ground around them was cracked, brickwork smashed to pieces, and dead vegetation caught up in the air assault had been scattered everywhere. Akkarin's heart sank as he remembered how Sonea adored the Guild's gardens, she would sit on one of the benches and read until the sun set… _and now it has been destroyed._

His thoughts were interrupted with the sound of heavy, quick footfalls behind him. Despite his low magic he created a weak shield surrounding himself and Sonea, and duly heard someone curse when they walked straight into its stinging wall.

"Akkarin! Is Sonea okay?" a voice called.

Akkarin relaxed as he realised it was just Rothen. He let the barrier down and Rothen rushed over to his side.

"Lord Ro - "

"Is Sonea okay or not?" It was obvious Rothen was trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

"She'll be fine… She's just exhausted, I don't think she's physically hurt…"

"How DARE YOU!"

Akkarin jolted in shock at the sheer hate he heard in those words. He turned to look behind him properly and realised that Balkan and Dorrien were following Rothen. His gaze slid from the worry in Rothen's eyes, to a pair flashing with anger set in a face with clenched teeth. Dorrien's face. Still on the ground, it was all Akkarin could do to just stare at Dorrien as he towered over him as he spat out his condemnation for him.

"What sort of monster forces a vulnerable girl to learn such a dirty, disgusting, immoral magic?"

Akkarin was stunned by the vehemence in his voice and could hardly get in a reply, not that Dorrien was listening anyway.

"But, she asked me to -"

"What sort of MONSTER takes her away from a man she loves as a father, and bans them from ever speaking to each other again?"

"There was no choice - "

"WHAT SORT OF MONSTER BEDS THE GIRL HE IS MEANT TO PROTECT?"

This last question echoed through the grounds and hung in the air with immense pressure. Akkarin flinched at Dorrien's crudeness, but he began to feel anger building at Rothen's son for his ignorance. A threatening gleam returned to Akkarin's eyes as he regarded Dorrien.

"Firstly, Sonea _asked _to be taught black magic. Secondly, it was _necessary _to claim her guardianship. If I had not, Rothen and Lor… Lorlen would have revealed me, and I, and all of you, would be dead." Akkarin then paused as he considered how to answer the last statement. His tone softened a little.

"Thirdly… I have come to love Sonea. I will never harm her in any way. She… We both…"

Rothen gave a quick intake of breath. His face had paled to look extremely nauseous and he began to swallow continuously. Akkarin suddenly understood that he hadn't thought Dorrien was being serious about the last accusation. Dorrien merely gave Rothen a look that asked how blind he could be, but then he turned his attention back to Akkarin, his eyes still furious.

After clearing his throat, Balkan stepped forward. He had said nothing during the whole conversation, but now he had their attention he spoke up.

"These matters, although important, can be discussed later, when it is more appropriate. Lord Dorrien, you have shown your ingratitude to these two people for saving the Guild and Kyralia. I suggest you save face and call for Lady Vinara's assistance. I am sure you would still want to see Sonea well again, despite your obvious dislike for the High Lord?"

Slight guilt appeared on Dorrien's face but undertones of his anger remained as he turned away to call for Vinara. Balkan turned to Rothen.

"Lord Rothen, if you are well? Please would you go to the High Lord's Residence and prepare Sonea's room, and anything you think Vinara may need to heal her. Akkarin and I will follow with her."

"But - "

Knowing what he was about to say, Balkan cut in.

"Rothen, there will be others around all the time, she will be safe there."

The double-meaning of his words did not escape any of them. Consoled, Rothen, if grudgingly, bowed and walked off towards the Residence.

Dorrien returned. Tight lipped, he told them that Vinara would be there shortly, and that should Sonea wake, she was not to move. Balkan nodded and then told him to organize search parties to go out into Imardin to search for survivors… and victims. Dorrien opened his mouth to protest, but at the last moment he scowled and stalked towards the Guild's gates.

A moment's silence passed until Akkarin broke it.

"Thank you, Lord Balkan."

Balkan regarded Akkarin and Sonea in his lap. The former strong, impassive High Lord looked, quite frankly, awful. His robes were torn at the sleeves and at where the Ichani's knife had been embedded into his chest. His face looked haggard; there were dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were pale, and his lips were a thin line. Sonea equalled his appearance. Though her face bore a peaceful expression in her unconsciousness, there were dark circles under her eyes too, her hair was plastered to her face, and though she was fair already, Balkan could tell that she was much paler than anyone ought to be.

_What on earth is going to happen now? _He wondered. It was evident Akkarin was telling the truth about the Sachakans. Would he be reinstated at the Guild? But what about Sonea? It was obvious now that they had a relationship. Another rule of the Guild's broken. _But then again, _Balkan mused, _it began while they were in exile. I wonder if the rules apply in this case._

"There is no need to thank me, High Lord."

Akkarin chuckled once, but he smiled sadly.

"Balkan, you know I was stripped of that title."

"Ah, yes, but I believe there is no other person more suited to the role."

Akkarin looked up at Balkan in surprise. He was not expecting someone to be so openly supportive of him, but he was heartened by his declaration.

"I still fear others will not believe me."

"Hmm. We'll see, I suppose. For now though," Balkan bent down and picked Sonea up from Akkarin's lap. She felt extremely light, and her frame was thin. His mouth turned down in concern. Akkarin pulled himself up, and stood for a moment finding his balance. Then he looked to Balkan and motioned that he would carry Sonea. Though doubtful of Akkarin's strength, he handed her into his waiting arms, when a thought occurred to him.

"Akkarin… that knife went right into your chest, we saw, we were watching from the roof." he indicated to the University. "… How can you still be alive?"

Akkarin remained silent as they walked towards the Residence. Balkan looked at his face and saw that a crease had appeared between Akkarin's brows, deep in thought. Eventually he replied.

"I honestly don't know what happened. I only know that Sonea somehow saved me. I am sure, had the battle gone on a minute longer, I would be gone."

Balkan nodded his acceptance of this conclusion. He returned to thinking through his previous thoughts on what was going to happen now. He grimaced as he realised that there were going to be a lot of meetings, discussions, and even worse, attending court. He glanced a look at Akkarin and Sonea and considered their supposed relationship. Akkarin said he _loved _her. Balkan honestly thought he wasn't quite capable of love, he always seemed so distant. _But then, I suppose Akkarin's always been secretive. No one really understands him, except possibly Lorlen, they have been friends since they were Novices. _Balkan looked to the man again. He wondered how Akkarin would cope with his friend's death. He remembered how he tripped over his name a few minutes ago. Lorlen would have been there for Akkarin now, and whenever he needed him in the future.

"You should know, you have my support Akkarin, in whatever is going to happen next."

Akkarin turned to him, his eyebrows slightly raised. _My, perhaps I don't know Balkan as well as i thought. I would have expected him to consider me a disgrace to the Warrior discipline… just a disgrace completely... _He frowned slightly. _Maybe the Guild really will believe me now._

"Thank you, again." He returned his gaze to Sonea's face.

Balkan inclined his head at the thanks. They were nearing the Residence now and, after everything, the grey building seemed almost inviting for once.


	2. Road To Recovery

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own the characters or places written or recognized in this, they belong to Trudi Canavan. I am not making a profit from this. (If I _had _owned it, Akkarin would live!) _

_**A/N**_ **I'm back with chapter two! Finally figured it out. Please do enjoy! And Review if you wish**. **:)**

**Erm, the POVs kinda chop and change throughout this chapter. And it's pretty long. Sorry if it's too much!**

**ATTENTION****. I forgot to mention something crucial in the last A/N when that chapter was first published, and that is that Akkarin and Sonea never met up with Dorrien after exiting Sachaka. Sorry if anyone was confused about his outburst! He does not yet understand… will he ever though? **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Two: Road To Recovery<span>_

Balkan opened the door to the Residence and stood aside as Akkarin stepped into the building, still carrying Sonea bridal-style. Akkarin gazed around the guestroom. There were already signs showing that no-one had been living there for a while; dust was gathering on top of the wine cabinet, and the cushions on his beloved armchair were beginning to sag.

"The Guild have not gotten round to appointing a new High Lord yet," Balkan explained, following Akkarin's gaze. "No-one has been in here since you, ah… left. I suppose it may give you an advantage if you wish to try and reclaim your place."

Akkarin did not reply. He was not going to think about Guild matters until Sonea was completely recovered. The sound of footsteps coming down the staircase reached them. Rothen came into view and he inclined his head in greeting, albeit stiffly when he saw that it was Akkarin holding Sonea.

"Her room is ready. I removed most of the dust and sorted out bed sheets." His voice sounded strained and there was slight leer in his expression.

Akkarin's infamous dark gaze had returned to his face when he looked at Rothen. He quickly climbed the stairs before his expression mirrored Rothen's and made him feel even more hatred. _Sonea would be annoyed if I showed Rothen more disrespect…_ Reaching the top he walked along the hall, and nudged open Sonea's bedchamber door. He created a small globe of light and placed her gently down on the soft mattress of the four-poster bed in the centre of the room, her head resting on a silk-covered pillow. Akkarin stood still for a moment, studying her face in the soft glow of the globe. Her short, curly brown hair had fanned out across the pillow and auburn tints in it shone in the light. Her long eyelashes cast shadows across her pale face. Akkarin's heart thudded.

_She's so beautiful. _A soft smile appeared on his lips. He reached out a hand and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind an ear.

_Rest well, Sonea love, _he sent. He did not know if she would hear him, but he said it all the same.

Reluctantly he turned away from her and headed back downstairs, the door clicking shut behind him.

~.~.~

Lady Vinara was still in disbelief that both Akkarin and Sonea had survived as she hurried toward the Guild. _And seemingly with no worse ailments than exhaustion at that! _She would not openly admit she had doubts about their abilities… it's not that she was frightened of them, just… _cautious. Yes that's it, cautious._

And now they need her expertise. It would be an honour to help them be well again, the saviours and two most powerful magicians of Kyralia…

_But… what if… what if I make a mistake? What if I make them more ill? _She couldn't help the flow of her thoughts. _They'll be unhappy… they'll get angry… then they'll do something to me, something bad. Ban me from healing? Block my powers? … Kill me?_

_STOP. _Vinara shook her head. She couldn't think like this. She _knew _Sonea. Sonea who had taken an interest in the Healing profession, was always studious and as nice as she could be. Sonea would not harm her if she did something wrong. But Akkarin on the other hand…

_Oh Gods, he's frightening. He's _terrifying_. He will surely do something if I do not do well. And Dorrien, during the conversation, he sounded tense when he mentioned Akkarin. Was Akkarin already in a worse mood and taking it out on others? Wait… of course he would be in a bad mood… his novice is unconscious._

Vinara's entered the Guild through the gates. She looked up from her green robes brushing the ground and her footsteps slowed to a standstill. She was not prepared to see the destruction of the Guild's grounds, something so familiar to her torn up. Her gaze was attracted to a body of colour – purple, green, red and brown robed figures were standing a slight distance away, a stark contrast to the mud coloured mess the grounds were in. Vinara recognized a few, and nodded her head to one – Dorrien. He replied by a slight lift of his chin, his face still holding traces of discontent. Slightly confused, Vinara resumed her walk to the Residence. Her mind dismissed Dorrien's face as she continued to think about what she was about to do.

_I am a professional. _She thought._ What has happened in the city today has been a tragedy, but I cannot let it distract me from the work I must do to help put it to rights. It is silly to be scared of Sonea and Akkarin after what we have faced. I know I can do my job and do it well, and I _will _heal them, and all others who have been injured in the battle._

Vinara smiled to herself. Her confidence had returned.

~.~.~

When Akkarin arrived at the end of the stairs, a heated discussion between the two other magicians ceased. Balkan looked over to him, carefully schooling his expression. Rothen's expression, however, didn't quite make it – he could still see a curve of distaste on his mouth. Akkarin sighed and leant himself against the doorframe that lead to the dining room, crossing his arms as he did so.

_How can I possibly get Rothen to understand… I've taken the only person as close he'll ever get to a daughter away from him, and now I say I love her? He loves her too, and yet I try to place more claim over her than him…_

Akkarin instantly felt regret and guilt.

_I should never have taken her guardianship. They weren't going to tell anyone, they would have kept quiet and I could have carried on with my work, she would still hate me and I would not have fallen for her._

Still, Akkarin could not help thinking that without her, the Ichani would not have been beaten. He would be dead otherwise, and she… _she would be a pleasure slave. _Akkarin shuddered and felt his stomach knot at the thought.

Two short knocks rapped on the front door before it swung open and Vinara stepped into the Residence. She must have sensed the icy atmosphere between the other three magicians because she looked to each of them with questioning eyes. She said nothing though, and instead bowed in greeting, closing the door behind her.

"Lady Vinara," Balkan bowed back, "Thank you for coming so soon. Sonea's upstairs in her room."

"I'll tend to her immediately, Lord Balkan. It's so good to see you all alive. I may need someone to assist me with dressing wounds any wounds though."

"I'll go." Akkarin said.

Vinara looked slightly surprised, but even more so when Rothen stepped between them.

"No! I will go."

"Rothen -" Akkarin tried to protest but was immediately interrupted.

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Akkarin's eyes hardened for a moment but then he simply looked defeated. Vinara looked to Balkan for some explanation but he only shrugged his shoulders. She turned to look at the other two again. Rothen looked strangely triumphant.

"Right… well… Rothen it is then. Let's go."

~.~.~

Rothen was still fuming as he followed Vinara to Sonea's rooms.

_I don't even want to think about what he's done to her. It's awful. Is it rape? _Rothen shuddered. _But if it wasn't forced… that means she consented… and that must mean she likes him. No, she can't like him. She hated him!_

But then Rothen remembered the smile she would give Akkarin just before they were caught out. And then he remembered how she refused her kinder judgment to instead be with Akkarin in exile.

_She believed his story completely. Either he somehow used magic to make her believe, or his story really is true._

And then, the cherry on the cake, Rothen remembered the kiss she and Akkarin shared before she collapsed which he saw from the roof. As did Dorrien.

_Poor Dorrien._

His son was not going to take the revelation easily. Rothen sighed quietly to himself. He didn't know what to think anymore. Everything had happened so quickly. He hadn't even properly spoken to Sonea yet.

_Ah, that's what I need. A long talk with Sonea and this will all be sorted out._

They reached Sonea's room. Two globe lights flitted in, just bright enough to see by. Vinara arrived briskly at Sonea's side, Rothen close behind her. Her hand stretched out and hovered a couple of inches over Sonea's forehead, and she closed her eyes as she let her senses out into Sonea's body, checking for internal damage. She suddenly stopped half-way down her face however, when her eyes opened again and she turned to narrow them at Rothen.

"You are so close I can feel your breath on my neck, Rothen."

He looked slightly embarrassed as he took a step back and mumbled an apology. Vinara sighed and she briefly looked around the room.

"Over there, that towel. Could you dampen it and place it on Sonea's head? She has a slight temperature."

Rothen rushed to the other side of the bed, glad to finally feel helpful. Once he wrung the towel out, he neatly folded it and placed it on Sonea's forehead. She stirred a little at the sudden coolness on her face, but fell deep into unconsciousness again just as quickly. Rothen's heart squeezed when he fully realised how ill she looked. He pulled a chair over from her desk and sat carefully watching her as Vinara resumed the examination.

It was almost ten minutes later when he realised Vinara's hands had stopped over the middle of Sonea's stomach, a frown drawing her eyebrows together in confusion, eyes closed. Rothen's eyes shifted from Vinara's hands to Sonea's body and back again.

"Vinara? Is there something wrong?" His voice was cautious, he didn't want to startle her out of her concentration.

"… I'm not sure…" was the mumbled reply.

Although his voice seemed calm, Rothen's mind was turning into a storm. He had a strong sense of déjà vu, like he had seen Vinara standing over someone like that before.

_Maybe, when a student hurt themselves? No, none of my students or those I was guardian for have ever been treated by Vinara. A magician then? Someone I visited in the Healer's Quarters… a woman… she was looking fondly at me… Yilara!_

He was confused by the conclusion.

_Why does this remind me of Yilara? Why was she in the Quarter's? The only time she was there was when she had Dorrien… and for the checkups when Vinara examined her for signs of abnormalities… when Vinara held her hands over her stomach, just like what she was doing now._

Exactly _like what she was doing now._

Rothen stood up so quickly the chair fell to the ground with a bang. Vinara jumped at the noise and opened her eyes to find Rothen staring at her hard, a steely look in his eyes.

"What? Rothen? What is it?"

Rothen kept staring at her as his breathing deepened, as if he was furious at something.

"Rothen, please, what's wrong?"

"Is she?"

Confusion appeared in Vinara's eyes.

"Is she what?"

"Don't play games, Vinara! Just tell me – is she?"

"Rothen, I honestly don't understand. Is she what?"

"Is she… pregnant?" The last word was almost spat out in a whisper.

Vinara's face was a mixture of shock at Rothen's tone and confusion. Sonea had no lover, did she? She had never taken interest. Yet Rothen's reaction hinted at it. Seeing Rothen's face again she realised she should give an answer quick.

"No, Rothen, she is not pregnant."

Rothen immediately collapsed back into his chair after picking it up again, letting out the breath he was holding slowly, to calm himself down.

_Oh, thank the gods! There is nothing wrong with her. _But Rothen suddenly realized his mistake in thinking this. Vinara still looked unsure over something, and she was contemplating Sonea's stomach. Rothen tensed again.

"Vinara… If she's not pregnant… what is wrong with her?"

Vinara did not reply for some time. She put a hand over Sonea once again, shifting it back and forth. Eventually she looked to him, and he felt himself go cold, his stomach twisting at the look of sorrow and pity in her eyes.

"I think… I think she has somehow been cursed."

"Cursed?"

"Yes. There is a… I can't explain. It would be better if you see for yourself."

Rothen rose from the chair shakily and arrived at Vinara's side. She took his hand in hers and placed it over Sonea's stomach, where hers was before.

"Now, expand your senses to her body, and see for yourself."

Rothen did so, and could feel Sonea's slight power in her, but he knew this was not what he was searching for. He concentrated to the area under his hand and gasped in horror. He realised why Vinara couldn't describe it. The image he had in his mind from what he could sense was a scar of blackness embedded in the tissues of her body. It was ugly, and dark, and unnatural.

"Vinara, why haven't you healed it?"

He was looking at her still with traces of horror on his face. Vinara turned her eyes down from his gaze and took a breath.

"I'm so sorry Rothen… I tried to Heal her, but that thing took the power. Took it! It didn't have any effect. I… I think it may have even widened the wound, just a little. I can't risk trying to heal her, in case it gets worse."

Rothen's face paled. His gaze shifted back to Sonea's face.

"It's incurable?"

"I don't know. But if there is an antidote, or some sort of incantation, we must find it. Soon. Her body will try to heal itself – "

"- and her power will just be swallowed up until she is exhausted and… dies." Rothen barely got that word past his lips.

Silence ensued. Tears were slowly falling down Rothen's face.

_That it should come to this. After all she has been through, all she has done for this Guild, her life is to come to an end. She's not even twenty! It is not right she should die before me._

Despair and pain filled Rothen's heart. He could only think that the Ichani had somehow done something, or said something that would curse her for killing them or touching something of theirs. How… how could he possibly tell her?

He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of Vinara's voice, but he couldn't make sense of what she was saying. His tears were blurring his vision. Vinara walked round to stand in front of him.

"I am so sorry. I will research this, to see if there is anything I can do. I think this is the fault of the Ichani. We should tell Akkarin, he may have knowledge of what this is."

Rothen reacted to that man's name.

"Akkarin? No! We mustn't tell him. He'll…" Rothen was struggling for an excuse. "He'll… well, he might act without thinking, he might think he has the skill to save her, and just make it worse."

"Rothen, be reasonable. He may be the only person in the Guild with enough skill, knowledge and power to save her!"

"No! He cannot be told!"

Vinara cast a look of disbelief at Rothen. _Why would he say that? Akkarin was their best chance! Unless there is another reason. A reason for Rothen to still distrust him._

"Rothen? Is Akkarin Sonea's lover?"

Brief rage appeared in his eyes.

"Yes. That bastard is Sonea's 'lover'." The emphasis on the last word made it clear he didn't think 'lover' was the right term.

"You think… he forced her?" she asked with disgust.

"Who is to say? So far the only part proven true of his story is that the Ichani were going to invade! What about the rest of it? There's no proof that he didn't force black magic on Sonea, no proof he was indeed a slave. We still cannot trust him."

Vinara considered what Rothen said. She didn't want to put Sonea in anymore risk, and what if Akkarin did indeed have bad intentions? She couldn't let a man like that near Sonea. But he did save Kyralia, and Sonea seemed so trusting of him.

"Rothen, I will not tell him… for now. But I fear we will need his help. Perhaps when Sonea wakes, we will discuss this with her. If she asks that Akkarin be told, we should do as she says."

Rothen nodded once and Vinara walked to the door, the examination was finished.

"Thank you, Vinara." Rothen called after her. She inclined her head and walked out of the room.

Rothen turned his gaze back to Sonea's small form. The anger was leaking out of his face to be replaced again with sadness and pain. He didn't think he would recover in the event of her death. Fresh tears welled in his eyes. He closed them and rested his head in his hands.

_Why did it have to be Sonea?_

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><p><em><strong>AN**_ And there we have chapter 2! I'm not entirely happy with the way I wrote the ending, but heyho. Hope you enjoyed it!

I should take the chance now to say that there may not be a new chapter before my exams start, so that means you may have to wait for a few weeks. So I'm very sorry in advance, but it will get done sometime!


	3. Survivor

**_A/N: _Firstly, I would like to apologise for the super long wait :( School got majorly in the way (just started final year!) so I couldn't get the chapter written. Then came the beginning of the holidays. I wrote this chapter and tried to upload it the morning I left for Florida, but of course, my laptop decides to take a hissy fit. So sorry! But as they say, better late than never, right? :) Before we begin, some replies to reviews!:**

_**Rilawa:**_** I agree, it is more Harry Potter-ish, but hey, you never know, there could be such a thing in BMT world! Also, I was planning on not having Sonea pregnant, but there is still room for adaptations, so again, you never know! For now, let's ignore the revelation of Sonea's pregnancy in the book. Thanks for the review :)**

_**Astrasia:**_** Thankyou! I'm glad you think so!**

**Thankyou also to all those who have Favourited/Alerted and Reviewed. It means a lot to me :)**

**And so now, on with the story! I'm not as pleased with this chapter, but regardless, please do enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Three: Survivor<span>_

Dorrien heaved a sigh whilst standing in the middle of the remains of one of the noblest houses in the city. Its glass windows had fractured and shattered leaving shards strewn across the ruined lawn and out into the street. Dust hung heavy in the air, clogging the throats of those carefully moving around the debris in an attempt to find items that could be salvaged from underneath the tonnes of stone. Thankfully, there were no bodies to be found in this wreckage; the occupants had wisely evacuated the city when every other noble left. Many magicians were already leaning on still standing buildings for support in an attempt to refrain from being sick with all the images of the dead still fresh in their minds. Dorrien himself had seen enough broken limbed, gashed skin corpses to last two lifetimes.

_They will not be pleased to come back to this, _Dorrien thought with slight agitation. The Houses were unlikely to understand just how terrible the battle had been. They were expecting to return to their luxurious lifestyle and forget about the past few days. Dorrien snorted. No-one will **ever** forget the past few days.

One of the younger novices approached Dorrien slightly hunched from weariness carrying a small wooden box under his arm.

"My Lord, I think this is the last of what can be saved."

Dorrien nodded and turned to look at the meagre pile of items behind him. There were a couple of ornate-looking chairs that could have been part of dining room furniture – Dorrien could imagine a long room, with a long dining table and many velvety-backed chairs surrounding it. Portraits had also been stacked against what was left of the wall, the outermost showing an elderly man sitting in a high-backed armchair, a stern frown on his face and dressed in very traditional robes, hinting at his Head of House status. Dorrien felt a slight twinge of nervousness from looking at the portrait. It made him feel people were already angry at him, blaming him for failing to repair their house. He wasn't looking forward to the return of the citizens.

Dorrien turned around to the street. The magicians helping him had gathered again and were quietly speaking between themselves while they waited for Dorrien's signal to move on.

"Listen," Dorrien called out and silence fell. "The next building is in the Inner Circle on the Northside facing the Palace – a second property to one of the wealthiest houses. Please, as always, do all you can to salvage their possessions."

No one was fooled by his reminder, they all knew what he was thinking, and that they were thinking the same – they had no wish to deal with the evacuees when they returned, and especially had no wish to face their anger, or their wives' despair, at the revelation some of them had literally no home to return to. They were all hoping what they managed to save would be some sort of consolation.

The group of magicians all began to move towards the end of the street, and would eventually traverse another five streets before reaching the apothecary and the next destroyed house. Dorrien hung behind and made sure that the items they had found were safely stored on the wagon that would return them to the Guild where they would be dusted down, repaired, polished – whatever it took to return them to their former glory. He nodded once to the driver who tipped his cap in return, whipped the horses at the front of the wagon, and it trundled away in the opposite direction.

Dorrien began after the other magicians. They had moved out of sight, most likely already a few streets down from where Dorrien was. As he walked, he was unable to keep the day's earlier events slipping into the forefront of his mind. With each step, his features gradually changed into one of menace. Gritting his teeth he tried to stop the thoughts in his head, a grimace forming on his mouth. His breathing became laboured; in harshly through the nose and expelled in a hiss through his teeth. His nose twitched and screwed up, his eyes seemed to darken. By the end of the first street, Dorrien's hands were curled into fists and he was striding down the path.

_How DARE he? _He thought. _That criminal! How can they just let him carry on! He has abused the trust of the Guild, the King. He has abused the trust of Sonea! He will __**not **__get away with this! I'll be damned if he does!_

Again attempting to end his trail of thoughts before he lost control, Dorrien took notice of his surroundings. He was now just out of sight of the house he directed the other magicians towards. He forced himself to slow his footsteps before coming to a complete standstill outside an expensive restaurant, still out of view of the other magicians. Dorrien took a deep breath, the tangy odour of Bol originating from a suspicious alleyway obscuring his sense of smell. He cajoled his hands into loosening and licked his lips to stop himself gritting his teeth. His nose followed suit and uncreased itself. Finally, he felt calm enough to face the group, and took easy-paced steps around the corner and into plain sight.

As he neared the magicians, a rumble of tense conversation reached Dorrien's ears. Confusion settled on his face.

_Surely there cannot be much left of the wreckage? I wonder what has got them so riled._

The novice from before spotted Dorrien and broke away from the group.

"My Lord, my Lord!" he exclaimed, drawing the attention of the other magicians.

"What is going on, Lukian?"

"My Lord, there is someone trapped under the rubble! He is alive, for now. We must hurry!"

Dorrien's eyes widened and he quickly turned to the others as his mind took in the information and geared itself to formulate a plan.

"Those physically strongest, please meet at the very front of the wreckage. Those weaker please wait behind that group, your help may still be needed! All Healers, gather near me – I may need extra help in tending to any injuries he may have. Move, now!"

'Yes, My Lord' echoed throughout the group and as one they all began to move into their positions. Dorrien himself was fairly strong, and a path opened in front of him through the bodies as he walked towards the front. He allowed two minutes for everyone to get into position. A burly magician directed him through the remainder of a doorway to the site of the casualty. A beam from the roof obscured half of the man's body, whereas parts of the ceiling and dust lay half-hazard over the rest of him. It was a miracle the man was breathing.

Dorrien directed the group of men – seven in total – to stand around the beam. He selected a couple more from the other magicians to also gather at the bottom end to provide more power in swivelling the beam off of the man.

"On the count of three, everyone lift and move the beam to my left." Dorrien indicated to the southern wall. "Those at the bottom focus on swivelling and stopping the beam from slipping along the floor. Is everyone ready?"

The men got into position and answered with 'yes'. Dorrien took up his place, ready to help push and then instantly tend to the man.

"Alright, on the count of three. ONE, TWO, THREE!"

Grunts resounded as the men all took on part of the weight of the beam. Their boots scuffed across the floor, kicking any debris out of the way. Ten seconds later and Dorrien was kneeling next to the man, checking his vital signs as the beam was let down with a boom. Dorrien sent a small burst of Healing energy to his vital organs, ensuring he was in working order. The man's breathing was in short gasps. Dorrien moved his hands to the man's face and head, magically sewing his head would together again.

"Sir, we're here." Dorrien said in a smooth voice, one that he used to calm panicked patients. "Sir, I am Dorrien, Healer in the Magician's Guild. Please listen. Try take a deep breath and slow your breathing for me."

The man seemed to be listening as he did exactly as Dorrien asked, although almost had a coughing fit due to the sheer amount of dust that covered him. Gently, Dorrien ran his hands over the man's body, checking for broken limbs. As he did so, some of the dust was swiped off, leaving peeks of a rich blue material showing through.

_He must be a noble! _Dorrien thought in surprise. _No other could afford such exquisite robes. But I thought they had all left!_

Dorrien resumed his inspection, this time allowing his senses to seek into the man's body for internal damage. Astoundingly, the man had no other injuries bar the excessive inhalation of dust and his wounded head.

Dorrien moved his attention back to his head and wiped away the dust from the man's mouth and nose to make it easier for him to breathe. The man licked his lips, denying them of moisture no longer. Dorrien continued wiping the dust from the man's face and robes. Once he had done all he can he looked at the man fully and felt himself freeze up.

_No… no, it can't be._

But it was. The man slowly blinked open his eyes and they settled on Dorrien. He tried to talk but his throat was so dry it was impossible.

_How can he be alive? He died! _Dorrien's mind was swirling, making him dizzy. _Akkarin said he died… No! He is a friend of Akkarin's! _The realization made his blood run cold. This meant that no matter what opposition arose before Akkarin, he would still have a high-ranking ally to defend him. Defend him of all the crimes he had committed. A strong sense of unjust and anger flushed through Dorrien's veins. He forced himself out of his shock and masked his emotions before suspicions of his behaviour arose. Lowering himself closer to the man, Dorrien spoke the name of Akkarin's most loyal friend.

"Lorlen?"

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><p><em><strong>AN:**_** Loved it? Loathed it? Liked it? Review it :)**


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